The Art of Emotion
by MicKey'smouse26
Summary: He spent 17 years building his strength. He spent 17 years building his resistance. He spent 17 years building his discipline and in the span of a few minutes she undid everything he had worked so hard for. The worst part? He didn't even care.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey guys! I always loved this pairing, it just made so much sense to me. I'm new to writing fanfics so please please please review and tell me what you think. I haven't decided whether I am going to continue this a prologue for the story idea that I have or just leave it as a one-shot. If you want me to continue review and tell me. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: If you recognize it, s'not mine**

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Morinozuka Takashi was weak. Despite the years he dedicated to kendo, he was weak, and it was all her fault: Fujioka Haruhi.

The cross-dressing commoner had wormed her way into his heart. What was it about her that drew him in? Was it the silky chestnut hair that framed her delicate face? Was it the way her large topaz eyes sparkled up at him disarmingly? Her understanding nature and simplicity? Maybe it the way his name fell off her lips, seemingly on impulse, as Tamaki and the twins fawned over her? Perhaps it was her ability to see everything as it truly was. She had seen through each host club persona to the people they truly were. She saw through Mitskuni's false innocence, Kyoya's cold indifference, Tamaki's princely charm, Hikaru and Kaoru's arrogance… and even him. She understood him perfectly without him ever having to say a word.

The natural type had poked holes in the walls around his heart. She was making him _feel_. Feelings turned to love. Love made you worry. Worry made you feel helpless. Helplessness made you feel weak. Morinozuka Takashi did _**not**_ like feeling weak.

Still, his eyes stayed glued to the natural type as she hosted, drawn to the genuine laughter spilling from her mouth like waves crashing on the sand. 'Beautiful,' he thought, as he watched her ensnare her designators with her effortless charm and grace.

Takashi watched Haruhi for the rest of the day, his carefully manufactured stoic expression settled on his face. At closing time, she gathered her books and slid them into her fraying shoulder bag, a hideous thing really. She said goodbye to the other hosts and made her way to the door. 'She forgot about me,' he thought, melancholy beginning to make his body heavy. Then she turned in his direction, the sweetest smile on her lips, those large topaz eyes twinkling at him from across the room.

A flash of heat tore through his body, settling in his cheeks, burning the tips of his ears and waking up the butterflies that have occupied his body since that fateful first day- the fluttering in his abdomen creating a pleasant sensation. Euphoria settled in, spreading quickly, as he tried and failed to stop his reaction to his wonderfully common girl. He couldn't find it in himself to care as he smiled back, an almost imperceptible twitch of the lips. 'Maybe being weak isn't so bad after all,' he thought as she slipped from the room.


	2. Chapter 2

It was Tuesday afternoon, so naturally Kendo practice had been dismissed and the "strong and silent" type was making his way to the abandoned music room. It was the first real day of spring: the season of rebirth and new beginnings. Takashi, who was usually in a rush to get to Mitsukuni, was strolling through the trees at a leisurely pace.

'The cherry blossoms have finally bloomed,' he mused as a gentle breeze swept petals onto the sidewalk. He caught one as it fluttered past his face. The petal was soft and silky against his skin. Just like her. His cheeks flushed as memories of his dream from the night before played in his mind, she was so beautiful. With her cropped hair falling in her eyes and a soft blush mixing with her creamy complexion; she looked just like the cherry blossoms.

Takashi looked around casually as he entered Ouran, trying to appear nonchalant as the heat in his lower half dissipated slowly. He exhaled softly, attempting to assuage some of the tightness in his abdomen. She was driving him crazy and he didn't know how to stop it. Or if he wanted to. He came to an abrupt halt outside the music room; that thought caught him off guard. Takasi couldn't remember the last time he had considered what he wanted, maybe he never had. Did he deserve to be happy too?

"Mori-Senpai, HELP!"

The familiar cry interrupted his musings as he entered the Host Club, and his trained eyes scanned the room quickly. He paid the swooning girls no mind, nor did he acknowledge Kyoya lurking in the shadows. He had barely enough presence of mind to confirm that Mitsukuni was safe, before jumping into action. Crossing the large room in 3 strides, Takashi plucked Haruhi from the middle of what seemed to be a game of tug o' war between Tamaki and the twins, and settled her in his arms.

"Haruhi is not a toy," he rumbled menacingly, addressing the twins, his normally stoic face alive with anger.

"O-okay Mori-Senpai," the twins stuttered simultaneously, cowering in fear.

"Or your daughter," Takashi growled, turning to Tamaki and fixing him with a fiercer glare. It wouldn't hurt to scare Tamaki away until he could sort through his jumbled emotions and decide what he wanted.

"Okayokaypleasedon'thurtmeMori-Senpai," Tamaki squeaked incoherently, running to hide behind Kyoya, "Mommy save me." Takashi rolled his eyes, they were such children. Immature or not, however, they had no right to hurt his Haruhi like that.

'When did she become my Haruhi?' Takashi thought to himself bewildered. He was definitely in trouble.

"Um… Mori-Senpai?" Haruhi questioned, her waving hand rousing him out of his one-sided staring contest with Tamaki. He softened his gaze as he looked at her questioningly. "I was saying you can put me down, Mori-Senpai. I'm okay now."

"Ah…" Takashi muttered, fighting a losing battle with a blush. Haruhi felt his forehead with the back of her hand.

"Are you feeling alright, Mori-Senpai?" she questioned adorably, a small wrinkle between her eyebrows displaying her concern, "you look flushed."

"Mm," he replied, putting her down and walking briskly over to Mitsukuni, doing his best to ignore the fawning fangirls and maintain his composure. He sat down and looked out the window, constructing his flawless mask of disinterest and preparing himself for a couple hours of self-reflection.

Time passed by quickly and Takashi was even more confused. He kept finding his gaze drawn to Haruhi's reflection as she hosted, and after an hour simply gave up at trying to focus while she was so near. Even now that her clients had left, he couldn't help but watch as she dutifully cleared her table and slipped into the kitchen.

"Takashi," Mitsukuni called, plopping down next to him, "when are you gonna tell Haru-chan you love her?" Takashi wasn't surprised. No one knew him better than Mitsukuni.

"Hn," he responded shaking his head and looking pointedly in the directions of Tamaki and the twins.

"That's exactly why you need to tell her, Takashi," Mitsukuni exclaimed seriously, all traces of the boy lolita gone, "Haruhi needs someone who will love her for who she is, not an idea of who she could be, or because she's fun to play with. You deserve happiness, Takashi. You both do." Takashi took a moment to process Mitsukuni's advice. He was right.

'Haruhi deserves the world,' Takashi thought to himself, 'and I want to be the one who gives it to her.' Mitsukuni smiled, seeing Takashi come to his decision.

"She's in there," he pointed excitedly at the kitchen, his childish glee making a reappearance, he was so excited for his cousin and best friend. "Oh! And while you're in there…" he called after Takashi, "...could you bring me some cake?"


End file.
